The One You Settle For
by Meredith01
Summary: J/S/M Early Season 4. “I used to think we could go back, pick up where we left off. I thought I'd feel the same way...” M/S


**Title: **The One You Settle For

**Author:** Greer

**Rating**: Nothing kinky here!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing... I'd be ashamed to these days.

* * *

_**The One You Settle For**_

So this was what it felt like to have your heart broken.

Catching a few unusually quiet moments to herself, Samantha sat at her desk and once again allowed her thoughts as well as her gaze to drift to the man seated a mere few feet away. The office was strangely quiet, most of her colleagues had gone home for evening and it afforded an opportunity for day dreams and reflection. Admittedly sometimes, she found it almost impossible to tear her gaze from him.

Almost six months after her ill-fated relationship with Martin had ended, Samantha found herself wondering when she might finally find herself in that place were she could legitimately claim to be 'over' him. Their working relationship had been strained since the break-up and Samantha found it increasingly difficult to be around him when he seemed so distant and closed off toward her – perhaps mirroring her own treatment toward him in those few final months together. She knew he was angry and deep down she too was angry at him; angry at him for giving up on her so soon, for not wanting to fight to save their relationship. Perhaps he had just never cared enough about her.

These were the thoughts that invaded and interrupted her dreams each night and each morning as she awoke to a vacant space beside her, she once again found herself overcome with regret.

The shooting had been a further catalyst for self-reflection and with the pain of their break-up all too recent, she was then suddenly faced with the possibility of losing him forever. Sitting there at his bedside Samantha found herself consumed with remorse and ashamed of herself for letting old lingering fears stand in her way of happiness with this man. She stayed faithfully by his side until he awoke and then quietly disappeared, unnoticed by him and yet a familiar face to all the nurses who had watched her keep her lonely vigil.

And yet all this was now water under the bridge, the past was the past and it was the static, lonely present Samantha found herself existing in, in a state of admittedly self-imposed solitude.

She hadn't dated since Martin, hadn't felt the need to. The idea of trying to think up conversations or pretend to share interests whilst making meaningless small talk was unappealing, particularly when she knew she would spend the evening thinking about how easy and comfortable their conversations had been, how he listened without judgement or condemnation and always somehow knew how to soothe and comfort her. Then once again she would be reminded of how she had lost him and that now familiar pain would constrict around her heart.

No, dating was a bad idea and wholly unfair to any guy she might meet who would constantly and unfairly find himself compared to the man she was still in love with.

Over the past couple of months, they had slowly begun to rebuild their friendship and she acknowledged that would just have to be enough. She was almost certain he wasn't seeing anybody else, the constraints of their job made it difficult enough to meet people and these days he seemed quieter and more subdued, a world away from the fresh-faced, somewhat naïve guy she had met only four years before. The job, the accident, the addiction...perhaps even her...had all taken their toll on him and there was an ever present sadness and weariness that seemed to color his once brilliant blue eyes.

The light of Jack's office flickered irritably and she turned her gaze momentarily to find him standing on a chair in the centre of his office, his tie slung over his shoulder as he struggled to change the bulb and not topple from his makeshift ladder. With a final flourish he accomplished his task and as he felt her eyes on him he turned in her direction and offered her a tentative smile.

Samantha smiled weakly and returned her gaze to the computer screen in front of her, having struggled with the feelings her boss's renewed attentions created within her. Over the past few weeks Jack had made his feelings and intentions toward her somewhat clearer and yet it was with a quiet uncertainty that she found herself unable to respond in kind. There had been a time when a reconciliation with Jack Malone had been something of a preoccupation, a fact she was certain he was all too aware of and frequently used to his advantage both in personal and professional situations.

Whilst Samantha remained his friend and fiercest ally, those feelings she had harboured all those years before were proving difficult to replicate. It was just different this time.

The sound of heavy footfalls behind her caused her to hang her head in her hands and her shoulders hunched at the unwelcome intrusion as she instantly knew who was now standing behind her.

"Samantha...can I see you in my office?" Jack licked his lips nervously and gestured to his now brightly lit office, a somewhat nervous expression on his face as he waited for her to comply.

"Uh...sure," she nodded, glancing around the room and half-catching Martin's gaze before he pretended to be caught up in the paperwork before him once again.

Samantha hugged the file she had absently picked up from her desk closer to her chest and followed behind Jack, taking a seat across from his and waiting for him to sit down.

Jack sat on the edge of his seat and eyed her up and down uncertainly, watching how her foot moved up and down nervously and she fidgeted somewhat uncomfortably in her seat.

Taking a deep breath he, he leant forward and tried to hold her gaze, "I was wondering..." he began, obviously uneasy at the question he was about to ask, "if uh...if you'd maybe, want to go to dinner with me tomorrow night?"

Sam froze momentarily and widened her eyes at his question, "Dinner?"

"Yeah, ya know...you and me...good food, a few drinks, what do you say?"he smiled hopefully and in that moment she felt her resistance waver.

"If you have other plans, I..." he back-peddled, a little surprised by the response his question had elicited.

"No," Sam shook her head, "no, I don't."

"So... that's a yes?" he pressed, his eyebrow arched questioningly as he smiled persuasively at her and appeared to then hold his breath.

"Uh...yeah," she nodded, instantly experiencing a familiar sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as the words had left her lips.

"Ok," Jack nodded, a relieved smile on his face which widened considerably as the seconds ticked by.

"Jack, I have work I need to finish up, so..." Samantha stood and gestured to her desk and the all but deserted bullpen, "I should..."

"Oh, sure," he nodded, suddenly frowning as she made a hasty retreat from his office, "Sam? Is everything ok?"

"Yeah, sure. Why wouldn't it be?" she smiled back, trying her best not to betray her inner panic.

"No reason," he shrugged, watching her leave with a quizzical smile as she hurried out of his office and visibly slumped at her desk.

Samantha screwed her eyes tightly shut and rested her head in her hands, wondering how and why she so often found herself in these situations, particularly with men.

The bullpen was silent except for the sound of pen against paper and she looked up sadly to find Martin still at his desk, a blank expression on his face as he paused and stared at the pin board around his desk, rubbed wearily at his neck and then continued to write once again.

Sam leant back in her seat and glanced across at Jack's office, her gaze somehow finding it's way back to Martin who remained thankfully oblivious to her staring.

Sam gripped the edge of her desk and released a deeply troubled sigh, hauling herself to her feet and edging uncertainly back in the direction of Jack's office.

She found herself at the open door and knocked hesitantly on the frame, smiling weakly as he looked up at her from behind his glasses and smiled.

"What's up?" he quickly pulled his glasses from the bridge of his nose and sighed when he saw her loitering nervously in the doorway.

"I uh..." she stammered, frowning as she tried to find the words, "I can't make dinner tomorrow night, I'm sorry."

Unwillingly, Sam stepped into the office and leant back against the door, watching as he rose from his seat and slowly walked over to her.

"Alright," he nodded, looking at her curiously and shrugging as if to brush off her refusal, "rain check?"

Sam frowned and bit her lip thoughtfully as she gradually lifted her gaze, "I don't think so Jack."

He looked at her intently and sighed, his brown eyes staring intently into hers, "Talk to me Sam."

She shook her head and stared down helplessly at the floor, "I need time to think."

Jack nodded, "Ok, take all the time you want. But, how much time are we talking here? Days? Weeks? Months?" he smiled to try to put her at ease.

Sam shook her head, unable to respond, her mind a haze of emotions she was still unable to comprehend.

Jack sighed sadly and reached out to graze his hand over her cheek, "I know I hurt you Sam, but...things are different now," he assured her, happy she had not recoiled at his touch, "I'm ready."

Sam shook her head and blinked back the tear that had lay nestled against her lower lashes, her voice barely above a whisper as she stared up at him and replied, "But...I'm not."

She placed her hand over his and pushed it from her cheek, glad to finally have been able to voice at least part of her feelings.

"You're saying you don't want this?" he asked, his tone now quiet and subdued as he looked down at her almost pleadingly, "it's you and me, Sam."

Samantha smiled gently and shook her head, brushing away the tears now rapidly falling down her cheeks, "It's too late Jack," she stated, her tone soft yet confident, "I used to think...I used to think we could go back, pick up where we left off. I thought I'd feel the same way..."

"But you don't," he filled in, nodding his head slowly and letting his eyes run intently over her face.

"I'm not in love with you any more," she wrapped her arms around herself and blinked back further tears, realising how much time and how much pain she had wasted longing for something that did not exist. Martin had always felt threatened by her history with Jack and yet she had never had the insight into her own feelings to be able to reassure him.

Jack inhaled deeply and shook his head, suddenly filled with renewed hope, "Ok, look, go home...take a bubble bath, light some of those scented candles or do whatever it is you do and just take a deep breath. Take some time...think things over, you just need to calm down."

Sam looked up at him sharply and shook her head, "Don't tell me what I need Jack," she said ruefully, now painfully aware of just how little he knew or cared about her needs.

Jack looked past her to the bullpen outside and sat down heavily on the edge of his desk, his arms folded tightly across his chest, "Is this about Martin?"

Samantha frowned and looked back at him with surprise, "What?"

"I knew about you two Sam," he shrugged. "I knew you were sleeping together."

Sam closed her eyes for a brief second, initially struck with the realisation that despite their fights and her protests, people knew of their relationship. His choice of words also served as a painful reminder and she found herself then realising just how disposable and dismissive it must have made her relationship with Martin appear and why he had been so hurt at her words.

"We weren't just _sleeping together_," she countered quietly, staring at him through her tears as she reached behind her to open the door.

"Sam, wait!" Jack sighed, walking after her and catching hold of her wrist as he stepped in closer and tried to thread his fingers through hers.

He edged closer and Sam stepped back through the open door as his warm breath drifted across her cheek, "Please don't do this Samantha."

Sam turned sharply at the sound of footfalls in the hallway and she shrugged her hand free of Jack's grasp as she found Martin staring at them, his expression clearly betraying his feelings on his discovery.

He shook his head and laughed softly, grasping the file he held in his hand until his knuckles whitened, "_Right_."

Samantha's eyes widened as she watched him turn and walk away, his tall figure quickly retreating down toward the elevators as Sam jogged after him.

"Martin, wait!!"

He disappeared out of sight and she was left standing alone in the dimly lit hall, with only Jack's eyes fixed upon her as he nodded in realisation and retreated silently back into his office.

* * *

Samantha pulled her coat tighter around her body and shivered against the biting wind as she watched the members of the NA meeting leave, each one recoiling in apparent surprise at the icy chill that now seemed to have enveloped the city in a matter of mere hours.

Sam glanced hastily at each member, waiting for a familiar face so she could attempt to say all the things she had realised finally needed saying. How Martin would respond to her confessions she had no idea, yet even if he still rejected her she would at least have the closure of knowing that for once, he finally knew how she felt and in particular, how she felt about him.

She blinked against the cold wind and stepped uncertainly toward a tall, dark haired man as he hurried along the pavement, calling out to stop his hasty footsteps, "Martin!"

He turned upon hearing her voice and looked less than pleased to see her standing before him. A short red haired man at his side gave Sam a cursory glance before glancing back at Martin and he made his excuses and hurriedly walked away from the couple who appeared to be seconds away from an argument.

"What do you want Sam?" Martin asked tiredly, his tone almost bored and emotionless.

"I needed to talk to you," she jogged along at his side, trying to keep up with his brisk pace as he stormed along the sidewalk with his hands jammed in his pockets.

"We've got nothing to say to each other," he said dismissively, not glancing down at her for fear his resolve would break. He hated the effect her eyes had on him and was doing all he could to avoid being reeled in once again.

"Fine, you don't have to talk, just listen," she begged, reaching out to place her hand on his arm to halt his steps, "please?"

Martin stared over her head across the street and sighed, "Shouldn't you be with Jack?"

Sam winced and shook her head firmly, "There's nothing going on between me and Jack."

"Really?" Martin countered angrily, "because it sure looked that way to me."

He went to continue on but Samantha held onto his arm firmly, "Martin, please. Jack and I aren't together."

"Look, I have to go," he said dismissively, hating himself for having enjoyed seeing the pain and desperation in her eyes yet simply not having the strength to deal with her issues any more.

"I don't want to be with Jack," she said imploringly, tears beginning to form in her eyes that he wondered were due to the weather or a very un-Samantha like display of emotion.

Her words however, struck him with a strange sense of amusement and he couldn't contain the smile of disbelief that crept across his face, "Do you ever know what you want, Sam?"

She shook off his comment with a dismissive shake of her head and gestured for him to sit down on a nearby step outside an apartment building.

"Martin, please...I just want to talk to you," she begged, trying to manoeuvre him toward the step as he actively fought her off and tried to shrug her free. Taking a deep breath he finally allowed himself to stare her in the eye, realising she would not let him go unless she saw the finality in his eyes. He had found himself once again fantasizing about a reconciliation as they had slowly rebuilt their friendship, knowing all too well that the feelings he had for her were still very much there. Seeing her tonight with Jack had hurt him more than he would admit and in that moment, she was the very last person he wanted to see before him.

He leaned in closer to her and tried to keep his voice gentle yet firm, "We're done Sam...you and me. It's over. There's nothing to talk about any more."

She placed her hand over her eyes and shook her head, more so in desperation than for argument's sake, and as she lifted her eyes to meet his, he knew that was his ultimate undoing.

Her face was tear streaked and reddened by the wind and for the first time he saw an element of fear and vulnerability in her eyes.

With a weary sigh he finally nodded and walked over to the steps, remembering a previous conversation that had occurred in such a location and wondering if maybe this wasn't the best place for this talk to take place.

Samantha ignored the curious stares of passers by and took a seat at his side, scooting a little closer as he made no effort to move in her direction.

Taking a deep breath, she peered up at him and faltered to find the words. His expression gradually softened, giving her the courage to continue.

"I've been thinking, about us... about everything," she began uncertainly, "about you and me...Jack. It's all I've been able to think about lately," she added with a watery smile.

Martin sighed irritably and shook his head, "I don't want to hear about you and Jack. I hope you'll be happy with his Sam, I really do. I hope he can make you happier than I ever could," he stared down at her and then shook his head, angry at himself for the emotions currently recapturing him once again.

"Wait," Sam said hurriedly, placing her hand on his arm to try to stop him getting up as he shrugged out of her grasp and stepped out onto the sidewalk again.

He walked off down the street, his footsteps now slower and with less purpose than before, his head held down toward his chest as he tried to ignore her repeatedly calling after him.

Samantha caught up with him once again and looped her arm through his, turning him to face her as she brushed fat tears from her cheeks, "I'm sorry."

He nodded sadly and jammed his hands back in his pockets as he thought over their relationship and how much he still loved the woman before him, "So am I."

He glanced down at her and shook his head in confusion, looking around them, standing there in the middle of the street, "What do you want Sam?" he asked helplessly, shrugging to convey his sad bewilderment, "when you were with me, you wanted Jack. Now he wants you back and suddenly you change your mind? I won't be the guy you settle for. I can't play your games any more Samantha, I just can't...I don't have the strength."

Samantha remained silent and stared up at his face, all the pain and defeat so clearly displayed on his handsome face, yet despite all that had happened, he was still the same man she loved.

"You're the only guy who's ever made me happy," she began in little more than a whisper, staring down pensively at her feet as she tried to muster the courage to finish her sentence.

She glanced up suddenly at the sound of laughter and she found Martin laughing softly as he shook his head and retorted, "God help the other poor bastards."

Sam smiled despite herself and continued, "I'm sorry for the way I treated you Martin. I'm sorry for not being there when you needed me."

Martin shook his head and looked momentarily thoughtful, "You were. You made me face up to the truth, sometimes that's the only thing you can do for someone," he mused, suddenly reaching up and brushing a strand of hair from her face.

He let his thumb drift over her damp skin and watched as she closed her eyes at his touch, "What are you doing here Sam?" he asked gently, watching her brown eyes slowly flutter open and affix his in an unwavering stare.

"Facing up to the truth?!" she smiled weakly, secretly mourning the loss of contact as his hand drifted away from her face.

Martin nodded and glanced thoughtfully around the street, debating whether or not to take the bait.

"Which is?" he asked, ignoring the voice in the back of his head that mocked his hopefulness.

Sam reached out and caught his hand in hers, her fingers tangling slowly with his as she looked up shyly, "That I love you."

Martin blinked in surprise and found himself unable to reply as he looked down at her somewhat blankly, a reaction which clearly made Samantha incredibly uncomfortable.

"Sam...I'm in recovery," he reasoned, needing her to be aware of exactly what she'd be getting herself into, "I'm always going to be an addict now, it's who I am. I'm not...I'm not the guy I was."

Samantha shook her head and gingerly reached up to place her palm to his cold cheek, "Yes, you are."

Martin placed his hand over hers and thought this over, a small smile suddenly appearing on his face, "What is it with you and screwed up guys?"

Sam laughed and tried to wipe under her eyes with her finger, realising half her mascara must now be down her face.

"Give me a chance Martin, let me be here for you... or ust let me be your friend again," she let her hand remain against his cheek, her thumb absently brushing across his jaw.

"I don't think you and I can ever just be friends, Sam," he shook his head and smiled, taking her hand from his cheek and rubbing it between his own to warm her up.

"I hope not," she allowed a brief, hopeful smile to wash over her face and was relieved when he too smiled in response. Very slowly, he pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly as she stepped closer into his body and held him hesitantly to her, gradually pulling him closer as she let her head rest on his chest.

Martin turned and glanced down the street, looking back at Samantha and finally coming to a decision. Moving her gently from his arms he smiled down at her kindly, "So... you kicked your addiction yet?" he smiled as he arched an eyebrow and explained, "the evil bean?"

Sam grinned and shook her head, "No, that I am still in denial about."

Martin nodded and gestured down the street, "There's a little coffee shop around the corner," he proposed, "I'll even treat you to a donut."

Samantha smiled in ready agreement and fell in beside him as they started to slowly amble down the sidewalk, "You haven't answered my question," she said nervously, wondering if this invitation was the first tentative steps toward fixing their relationship, or just an invitation to have coffee with a friend.

Martin shrugged and continued walking, "We'll talk about it when we get there," he suggested, looking down at her and smiling.

They took a few more steps and very slowly Martin reached out and offered her his hand. Without saying another word she slipped her hand into his and they made their way slowly down the street.


End file.
